The Watching Window
by Ms Western Ink
Summary: It had become something of a sad tradition, but a tradition all the same. AxM


** The Watching Window**

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AN: Each new scene indicates a break in the time sequence often advanced by several years.

Note: AU because I changed certain events in canon to make this happen.

**CREDIT NOTICE:** First scene of this story inspired by Morrigan Mikagami's story Tanabata Goseki: Season of Fireworks.

* * *

"Misao, come away from the window please," Omasu pleaded for the third time in ten minutes. "Don't you want to play? Kuro brought you a new toy." 

The girl shook her head determinately and stayed glued at the window, her little elbows propped up on the sill, a stool beneath her feet. "I have to wait for Aoshi-sama to come home. He would never leave me."

Omasu put aside the doll and came to stand at the little girl's side. She patted her head softly. "I know you miss him, but Aoshi-sama has gone on an extended trip. He won't be back for weeks, probably longer than that."

The girl turned her sea foam eyes up at Omasu and they filled with tears. "But I have to wait for him! It doesn't matter how long!"

Omasu knelt down pondering the best way in which to address the child's problem. "Aoshi-sama is busy working. If he were here, would he want you standing around and not learning and not playing?"

Misao continued to pout. "But he's **not** here! I want him back! It's been two whole weeks, bring him back Omasu, I want Aoshi-sama back!"

"If I could give him back to you, I would in a second, Misao, but he has important dangerous work to do and he wants you safe. Here you are safest. Let's wait patiently for Aoshi-sama's return."

Two weeks past Aoshi-sama left in the middle of the night. He stole away like a monster fearing daylight and took half her family with her.

No more Shikijou to hold her up on his shoulders.

No more Beshimi to throw kunai with.

No more Hyokkotto to have rice eating contests with.

No more Hannya to tell her bedtime stories.

No more Aoshi-sama… her little heart was broken.

* * *

She didn't sit at the window anymore, but she was still waiting. She was still looking. He watched her do it. Maybe she didn't mean to, maybe it was just something ingrained into her now, to look over at that window, but she always did it. Her eyes always flickered toward it. 

Every day.

Every meal.

Every time she sat down at the table.

"Misao, would you pass me that?" The girl looked up at the request and quickly passed the plate of pear slices. "You're very quiet today, anything happen?"

Misao shook her head. "Not really." She turned her eyes up toward him, her watcher. "Jiya, when can I travel on my own?"

His eyes widened in surprise and after a moment a small smile tilted his lips. "You are too young yet. In a few more years," he promised, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

He watched her pick at her food as she thought. She was always quiet when she sat and thought. The others cast curious glances at her but didn't say anything. Misao had been off and on quiet for years now, they had attributed it to her growing up. That's what he'd told them at least, not to worry over Misao.

He knew why she was quiet, maybe they did too.

She missed Aoshi.

She never forgot him and she wanted him back. She wanted to be wherever _that ma_n was. He was not certain why, he had speculated that she may eventually forget about the other man at some point, but she never had.

Their leader was a ghost in her heart, haunting her. She held on tight to that image, hoping, wishing, and praying for his safety and for his return. Misao loved Aoshi in whatever capacity she was able. What kind of love that was, he didn't know.

She wasn't a little girl exactly, but neither was she a woman at her mere twelve years of age, but she still waited for him.

Waited and hoped.

He could not bring himself to strip her of her hope. He couldn't even approach that slippery ground. Misao was far too precious to him for that.

He had tried, on her behalf, to bring their leader to the Aoiya, but Aoshi never replied to his missives with definitive answers. He always wrote back with evasive scribblings about "not enough time" and Okina could do nothing about it. Even lamenting over Misao's despondency and her desire to see him had not moved their cool-hearted Okashira.

For that reason, Okina worried. If Misao was nothing more than an obligation to Aoshi, would the girl's precious heart be broken if she met up with him again? What if he said something cold or brushed her aside? Could Misao's heart stand that? After so many years of hope? After so much time left to fantasize and wish and pray for a reunion that would no doubt be a wonderful experience in her head?

Where would it end?

He, too, then would hope.

* * *

She slammed her fist down on the table. "You said I could! When I was sixteen! I'm sixteen now!" 

He shook his head. "Misao, please be reasonable," Okina pleaded.

"I'm being reasonable! You're going back on your promise!"

Okina sighed and sat down at the low table on the other side. He propped his elbows up and turned his chin down.

"Is it wrong for this old man to worry about you? I know you miss him, I am not a fool, I know why you wish to travel, and I know you wish to find Aoshi-sama. But it is a big world, Misao and a dangerous one, are you truly ready for that?"

"How can I get ready for it if you keep me locked up here?"

He sighed and shook his head in defeat. "I cannot stop you. Go then, search for him; I wish you the best of luck."

He expected she would hop from her chair and run off out the door but she lingered. When he makes raised his eyes to look at her, he saw she was frowning. Her mouth was turned down and her eyes had a sheen.

He knew the look at once.

"Misao-" he started.

"If I don't go…" Her eyes filled with the tears he was expecting. "I have to… what if I never see him again? What if…?"

Maybe in a year she would give up this foolish nonsense. Maybe she would come home and stay there. Maybe she would meet a boy in a distant town and get married and he would be forced to communicate with her by letter.

Would he be left to watch the window, now searching for his little Misao-chan? He feared he would and he didn't want to condemn himself to that. He had no family, no wife, no children, but he'd considered Misao his for the longest time.

His child.

She shifted on her feet, sniffling conspicuously as she wiped her tears away. Crawling toward him she sat at his side and laid her head against his shoulder.

"Go in peace, Misao. Come home and visit us, we will all worry greatly."

She nodded in agreement, but made no move to leave. She sat the rest of the afternoon at his side in silence.

Come morning, she was gone.

It was the first of many trips.

Many, many trips.

* * *

He'd decided to call it "the watching window" in honor of the number of times people sat and watched for visitors beside it. Misao had started the tradition many years ago and now he used it to search for her and he noticed the others doing the same. 

She was gone again, another trip off into the countryside. Misao liked her traveling, she came home with boundless tales of adventure, fights, bits of thievery, and cleverness… she had learned and grown so much in the past year. Only now she had been gone for just over three months and, as was typical, he was beginning to worry the longer she stayed away. That meant, to him, the farther that she had gone.

She rarely spoke of boys. They came up every so often, usually in stories about fights and mad dashes for safety. Once she'd hid with a young boy her age inside a tiny shack in the woods during a rainstorm. She had mentioned it only in passing and he speculated there was much more to the story than she had told them of, but he didn't press her for her secrets.

Outside, a storm was brewing. The sky was turning an eerie gray, darkest in the west sky. Wind was tearing through the city streets, ruffling clothes and hair and blowing away anything not heavy enough to withstand the force. He walked toward the _watching window_ and peered outside.

The sky told him a storm was coming, but something deeper, something within him told him something much more menacing was on the horizon. He knew not from which way or in what form, but something bad was about to call upon the Aoiya or the residents thereof.

The wind kicked up and rain began to splatter against the glass.

The storm had come.

Okina sat with his book in the sitting room. A cup of tea steamed away beside him along with an entire plate of sweet pastries that had been virtually ignored. He'd been picking at one all morning and had yet to even eat half.

He had such an eerie feeling. Misao had returned a week previous in perfect health, if not a bit discouraged at having, yet again, missed Aoshi on the road. She often got tidbits of information and often they led her nowhere except to where he'd _previously_ been.

The man was a phantom on the road.

He was a ghost anywhere to be quite frank, Okina thought. If it weren't for the sparse, unmistakable Aoshi-replies that Okina received in the post from their enigmatic leader, Okina might have thought he'd died long ago. As it was, he appeared to be in good health, good enough to answer mail. Misao had, mysteriously enough, never inquired about communicating with Aoshi through post or pigeon messengers.

Odd for her to overlook such a thing. Very odd. It was strange to the point that he wondered if Misao were not in some peculiar form of denial. Maybe she simply wanted to see him in person and nothing less would do.

He really didn't know and he spent so much of his time speculating anymore. He'd read the same sentence over and again and not comprehended a word of it. He shook his head at his futile thoughts and glanced up to se Omasu sweep into the room.

Her eyes darted toward the window. Everyone did it now, didn't they? He smirked softly to himself in amusement.

He expected her to come right over and peck at him about not drinking his tea but her quick steps paused halfway there. He looked up. She had her face turned toward the window, her eyes still, focused on something beyond the glass.

The delicate tone of her face suddenly paled, fading and his heart began to beat faster. He started to speak when her mouth opened. He never expected it… never.

"MISAO!"

He shot to his feet, startled. What was the girl about making such a racket? What did she see?

"MISAO! Come quickly!"

The urgent tone of her voice had him hurrying to the window. He peered out, his eyes frantically searching.

Who?

What?

What?

What was it?

It took the barest of moments to comprehend Omasu's frantic tone. Behind him he heard Misao's feet upon the stairs, quick, hurried.

"What?" Misao's voice was caught between worry and annoyance.

"Come here, quickly!" Omasu urged.

Okina glanced back to see Misao walk over and Omasu dropped her hands onto the girl's shoulders, steering her toward the window. They walked forward together. Okina stared at their reflection in the glass.

But beyond…

Beyond the window walked a man, closer and closer.

Slowly, one step at a time.

There was no mistaking the empty stare, the tall, lanky frame, the dangerous, glittering eyes…

Misao paled, her expression going slack. "Aoshi-sama." Her voice cracked.

Omasu's arms circled around Misao's neck as she smiled, tears bubbling up in her eyes. "Aoshi-sama's come back…"

She stayed very still, waiting. He disappeared from the window's view and Okina could practically _hear_ her fears.

What if he hadn't been coming back to the Aoiya? What if he was just passing through? What if he didn't come? What if she didn't go outside to see and lost him in the street? What if her idle feet failed her?

What if he disappeared?

Behind them, the door slid open and Misao suddenly took an uneasy step forward. She raised a hand and laid her fingers against the sill of her window. She was shaking.

Okina glanced back to see his Okashira. He looked the same as he always had. Dark, unapproachable… his eyes were directed past Okina toward the window.

Toward Misao…

Had he finally decided to come back?

Why now?

"Misao," Okina called softly. "Turn about."

Okina watched her carefully and Aoshi didn't move. Aoshi stayed stone still just beyond the doorway. Kuro, Shiro, and Okon were peeking in behind Aoshi.

She turned slowly and he deduced immediately her problem. She was afraid; her eyes seemed large and luminous. A soft wispy sound registered in his ears and he realized he could hear her breathing; her heart was probably pounding away.

Poor girl.

Omasu never wavered, standing faithfully beside her. She glanced toward Aoshi-sama and bowed respectfully. Their leader nodded in acknowledgement and said nothing to her.

Aoshi's eyes darted back to Misao. He waited.

Everyone waited.

Misao visibly swallowed and raised her head. Okina smiled to himself as he watched her gather her courage. Her eyes were steadfast and vivid as she looked across the room at her Okashira.

"Hello, Aoshi-sama." Even her voice was sturdy.

_Good, good girl_, he silently congratulated. He had raised her well, he was so proud.

Aoshi took his cue and stepped forward. He crossed the room one tense, audible step at a time. Misao's breath seemed to have caught somewhere in her throat and stayed there.

He walked right up to her, barely a pace or two away and leaned down until their faces were almost level.

In a soft hush, he spoke. "I hear," he started, his eyes flickering over her face. "…that you've been waiting for me."

Something clicked in the younger girl and her apprehension seemed to have washed away abruptly. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes brightened, a smile turning up her lips.

Aoshi barely had time to straighten before Misao threw herself, quite literally, into his arms.

* * *

"I'm very surprised." Okina's voice was tense and hesitant. 

"I never intended to return."

"But you have," Okina countered staring across at his reclusive leader. "And so directly to Misao."

"They miss her."

The other men? Hannya and the lot… Okina turned his eyes toward his tea. How unsurprising. Yes, he hadn't forgotten they were also fond of Misao, but after so many years?

"I see. And you? Did you miss her also?" Okina pressed.

Okina feared he may have trespassed when Aoshi's eyes turned upon him in a glower. The younger man's personal business was nothing to trifle with and Aoshi was very quickly defensive.

Or… he used to be.

"Misao belongs to me; I was entrusted with her care by our former leader."

Okina tensed at the audible claim staking. "I am aware of that."

"I can collect her at my leisure. You have written me for years of her longing, I am not doing anything rash."

Frowning, Okina realized he couldn't argue that. He had done exactly what Aoshi said and Misao's feelings were as transparent now as they had always been. She wanted to be where Aoshi was and she would be happiest there.

Okina was, very simply, defeated. "At the very least, may she visit us?"

Aoshi lowered his eyes, closing them. "She may do as she wishes in that regard."

* * *

Morning brought Misao's excited chatter. If she noticed the gloom in the other's eyes she didn't show it. She talked happily of her leaving and, at the door, promised to visit as she threw her arms around Okina.

She held onto him tight. "Don't be sad, Jiya. I'll come home and see you, I promise."

He nodded and wished her safe traveling. Aoshi's goodbye consisted of a brief nod and they were off. Okina retreated to his sitting room and went to stand at the _watching window._ Tears pricked his eyes as he watched her disappear into the thick Kyoto crowds.

It was so aptly named, he thought. Misao had watched for Aoshi for years at this window and now he guessed he would spend the remainder of his watching, waiting for his little girl to visit him.

He placated himself with the memory of Misao's happy smile that morning. Her dearest wish had come true and all of those sad "what-ifs" had never met reality.

For that, he would be glad. As he turned a curious thought struck him. What if the next time Misao visited, she brought him children? Misao was very much of child-bearing and marrying age… perhaps Aoshi would see the benefit and marry her?

How delightful!

Ah! He would be a grandfather all over again! He entertained himself with thoughts of children singing and hearing the joyous sound of laughter again beneath his roof.

He quickly ordered himself a cup of tea and Omasu cast him a strange look before heading for the kitchen. Her eyes, he noticed, glanced toward the window and before he reached for the shelf to grab his book, his eyes darted there too.

He smiled softly and opened to his last page.

* * *

AN: This was written for LJ community rkchallenge and since the voting has ended I am now posting it. I think I write Misao jumping at Aoshi too much but it just seems so Misao-like that I can't resist doing it. Maybe I'll write a more sober Misao next time or something... 


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